SIDE:CONTINUE
by RegenesisX
Summary: A detailing of events following the return of the 77th class to Jabberwock Island. [Pairings TBD]
1. We Hope You Enjoy Your Stay

**Author's Note:** This will be an episodic series of short stories following the lives of the 77th class once they've returned to Jabberwock Island, because I need this. There will be funnies, there will be feels, and Komaeda and Hinata are getting together, dammit. So, please-join me and these crazy people for some adventures.

* * *

 **SIDE:CONTINUE**

 _We Hope You Enjoy Your Stay_

 _"_ _Hey… Can you hear me?"_

 _He could hear… something._

 _A roar, dull and rhythmic, in the distance. Rising and falling and rising again… like a passive heartbeat. What was that sound? It reminded him of the ocean, but it had been years since he'd woken up to the sound of the ocean._

 _...Woken up?_

 _When, exactly, had he fallen asleep?_

"Hey… Can you hear me?"

Ryota Mitarai blinked open his gummy eyes, blearily taking in his surroundings. Soft light filled the room, casting a dim glow on the dusty rug, the half-filled bookshelf, and the cracked glass bathroom door. His body felt heavy and his throat was on fire. He squeezed his eyes shut, coughing weakly.

"Ah, I'm sorry… The level of dust in here is honestly unacceptable, but there's barely been any time to clean. If I were more competent, I might've been able to get it done despite the circumstances, but as it is, all I was able to do was shake out the bedsheets..."

The voice sounded so guilty, Ryota forced himself to speak up mid-cough just to reassure it. "It's… fine…"

When he opened his eyes again, he sought out the source of the voice. It was the white-haired boy, perched on the edge of the bed. Ryota flinched when those grey eyes met his—somehow they were harder to look into than the light.

 _Nagito Komaeda_.

The sight of him scraped at the doors of Ryota's memory, touching a sensitive place deep inside of him. A nerve wrung so raw it had consumed his entire existence. It squeezed his chest, shortening his breath, making it hard to think straight.

"How… How did I get… here?" Rising panic strained his voice. "Wh-Where are we?"

"Jabberwock Island. We arrived yesterday morning, but you were pretty out of it, so Tsumiki prescribed immediate rest. That's why I didn't have time to clean, you see."

"Y-Yesterday morning…? How long have I been sleeping?"

"Mm… almost eighteen hours, I think."

"That long—?" Ryota bolted upright, sending his head swimming. The world tilted, and Komaeda lurched forward to steady him. His grip on Ryota's shoulders felt uneven.

"Hey, it's alright! You haven't missed anything; it was more important that you catch up on sleep. Your friend was just worried because you hadn't gotten to eat, so Hinata sent me to wake you for dinner."

Ryota furrowed his brow. "Hinata…?" The name sounded familiar, but…

"Ah, excuse me. Izuru Kamukura."

...Right. That was right. The Remnants of— _no_ , his former _classmates_ had reintroduced him to Hajime Hinata, the former identity of Izuru Kamukura. "Oh… And… my _friend?"_

"The Imposter. I just assumed you two were close because of the time you spent together. I apologize if I jumped to conclusions." Komaeda laughed, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. It was black and glossy—mechanical. "But Hinata was quite annoyed when he spoke to me, so I can only imagine how much the Imposter pestered him…"

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Ryota stared at that hand, unable to tear his eyes from it. The Komaeda of his past had two human hands, so he had to have lost the left one sometime after falling into despair. "I'm sorry. I've caused so many problems…"

 _Problems_ didn't even begin to cover it. Because of him, the world was in shambles. Even in the end, there was nothing he could do. In the end, the 77th class was forced to bear the weight of his weakness. They bore it with bloodstains in their minds, scars on their bodies, missing _limbs…_

"Hey."

The mechanical hand extended out toward him, along with Komaeda's kind smile.

"Come on. You wouldn't want to miss out on one of Hanamura's meals. He _is_ the Ultimate Chef, after all."

Ryota took his hand, aware that his own was trembling, and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. His shirt and pants were beyond wrinkled, but he doubted anyone would notice. It wasn't like he had anything else to change into. Komaeda took him outside— _outside_ , he hadn't realized the place he'd been sleeping was its own building. He must've passed out on the gangplank if he couldn't even remember setting foot on the island.

"This island used to be a resort, although it's in pretty rough shape now. We were actually going to put you in the cottage across from this one, but the hinges on the door rusted off."

The door of that particular cottage was propped awkwardly in the doorway, Ryota noted. "Are we here because this island is… isolated?" he asked.

"Mm… Yes and no. This place just made the most sense to return to." Spreading his hands, Komaeda adopted the tone of an automated tour guide as he led the way past the other cottages. The wooden pathway was warped and uneven. "These are the cottages. Each one is equipped with a bed and full bath. You may test the plumbing at your own risk."

They turned onto the regular stone path at the crossroads. The main building of the hotel sat a short distance away, flanked by overgrown foliage that may have once been gardens.

"This is the hotel pool. Feel free to take a refreshing dip anytime."

Ryota peered at the black sludge sitting at the bottom of the drained pool. "I think I'll pass."

Komaeda held the door for him as they entered the main hotel. Ryota slowly took in the lobby. It was cleaner than his cottage, although dust still coated the reception desk, and the fabric of the pool table had turned a weird shade of puke.

"This is the hotel lobby." Komaeda was still in character. "Your room has already been booked, so unless you _desperately_ need to speak with management, I wouldn't recommend ringing the bell. You might die choking on a dust cloud, and an untimely death here would be just the worst."

"R-Right..."

They took the stairs to the second floor, stopping in front of an ornate pair of double doors. "Through here is the restaurant. We've only started three fires in the kitchen so far, and Souda rewired the entire thing in less than a day. The Ultimates really are amazing, aren't they?"

Ryota swallowed thickly. "Everyone… is in there?"

"Yup!"

Before he could collect his thoughts or even catch his breath, Komaeda flung the doors wide open. Ryota's body seized as he caught glimpses of people inside. Energetic chatter drifted out into the hallway.

He wasn't ready to face them, he needed more time—

"Welcome to Jabberwock Island, Mitarai! We hope you enjoy your stay."

A rough shove from behind thrust him into the dining room.

The noise dimmed for a few heavy heartbeats while Ryota looked frantically around the room, feeling like a rabbit dropped into a den of wolves. And then, like a string breaking, the tension snapped and he was overwhelmed with yelling.

"He's awake!"

"Yo, man! You feelin' any better?"

"Course not! He hasn't eaten anything yet! Who can feel better without having food?"

"That's just you, you giant hag."

The girl with the facial piercings and multicolored hair was the first one over to him. Ryota couldn't recall her name. He stared blankly when she grabbed his hands.

"Ibuki is totally stoked to see Ryota awake!"

 _Ibuki, then_. "Y-Yeah," he said. "I'm, uh…"

The nurse girl edged into his vision next. Tsumiki, he remembered _her._ "A-Are you feeling quite alright, Mitarai?" she asked. "D-Does your head hurt? You a-aren't running a fever, are you?"

"N-No," he replied, quickly lifting his hands. "I'm just a bit hungry..."

"Hmph. Of course you are. An army marches on its stomach, doesn't it?"

Ibuki finally stepped aside for the Imposter. He was dressed as Byakuya Togami, sporting everything from his pretty blue eyes to his impossibly haughty attitude. Ryota peered up at him.

"I'm… not a soldier."

"Just as well, you'd be utterly useless." The Imposter held his stern gaze for a few moments longer before cracking a smile. "You look dead on your feet. Let's get some food in you."

Ryota stared, wide-eyed, from the Imposter to Ibuki to Tsumiki and back again. Their smiles were so warm, completely without animosity. He swallowed again, feeling heat behind his eyes.

He didn't deserve such kindness from them.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and Ryota glanced over at Izuru Kamukura. Or, the boy who _was_ Izuru Kamukura. Gone were the suit, the empty expression, and the hair, but the resemblance was still unmistakable. Looking into Kamukura's one red eye, Ryota knew instantly _this_ was the boy who had been with Junko Enoshima that day.

The day everything had fallen apart.

"Mitarai." His voice was soft and kind, not unlike Komaeda's earlier. It was the kind of tone that smiled at you. "I'm glad to see you."

 _Glad to see you._

 _Glad to see you._

 _Glad to see you._

As the words echoed in his head, the tears that had welled up finally spilled down his cheeks. "I'm glad to see you, too," he said. "I really am."

Kamukura squeezed his shoulder, stepping away to walk past him. Ibuki gently tugged on Ryota's wrist. "Hey, come sit with us!"

Ryota cast one glance back, catching the encouraging expressions of Komaeda and Kamukura, before allowing himself to be pulled further into the restaurant. He wasn't awake enough to deal with this kind of commotion, but as he was forced into a chair between Ibuki and the Imposter, he realized he didn't hate it. Hanamura dropped a steaming plate of food in front of him with a flourish. Tsumiki hovered nearby, stammering something about chewing thoroughly to prevent choking.

 _These people… really are something special._

* * *

Hajime lingered in the doorway of the restaurant to make sure Mitarai would be alright with the others before turning to the hallway. He caught the edge of Komaeda's sleeve on his way out, giving it a gentle tug before letting go. It wasn't necessary to check if he was following.

As they descended the stairs to the lobby, Hajime ran his hand along the peeling wallpaper. His enhanced mind allowed him to catalog each detail of this Jabberwock Island and compare it against the Jabberwock Island of the simulation. The Neo World Program was truly impressive, he'd realized. Some of the discrepancies were nearly imperceptible, even to him.

It kept the part of him that was Izuru Kamukura entertained, playing real-life "Spot the Differences."

Komaeda finally fell into step at his side when they reached the road. They walked in silence, past the empty ranch and the ferry landing. Souda had been so delighted to see the ferry when they'd woken up, he'd nearly slipped off the dock into the ocean in his rush to get to it.

"It has an engine!" he'd exclaimed, while reverently stroking the watercraft.

Hajime's feet finally stopped in the sand, halfway down the beach. The sun hovered above the horizon, painting the clouds in pastel pinks and oranges.

"It's funny," he said softly. "I can't really bring myself to hate this place. I wondered if I'd feel differently when we left. I thought it might be hard to come back here, but… this place is broken, just like us."

"Are you suggesting Jabberwock Island wants hope, too, Hinata?"

"We need to give it hope that it can be beautiful again. We'll mend its wounds, piece by piece, just like we're doing with each other."

Hajime sat down, and Komaeda did so as well. Pulling his knees up, Hajime rested his cheek against them so he could look at Komaeda. They'd spoken since Komaeda had woken from his coma, but it had been a mere scratch on the surface of the pile of _stuff_ between them. Analyzing the killing game's events from Izuru's perspective had provided him with more insight, but there came a point when he simply forced his brain to quiet. He didn't have to create a thousand-page dissertation on the intricacies Komaeda's behavior within the Neo World Program and come to a concrete conclusion.

Komaeda was alive, they could talk.

"This is the beach, isn't it? The beach where we met. Except we didn't meet there—we met on the boat beforehand. I was so delighted to speak with you, and you said I was boring. Do you remember that?"

Hajime nodded. "I do. I remembered in the Program, actually… during our confrontation with the AI Junko Enoshima."

"Oh, really? It seems, even then, you were far more capable than I anticipated."

"I remember everything clearly now," Hajime said. "I remember getting on the boat, waking up, talking to you, speaking with the Future Foundation members, introducing the corrupted AI to the Neo World Program… A lot of things happened in that span of time, but the one thing I happened to recall while in the Program was speaking with you."

Komaeda laughed in that breezy way of his. The laugh that effortlessly smothered emotions. "I must have been a particularly ugly stain in your mind, then."

"That's wrong," Hajime responded automatically. During the final killing, Komaeda and Chiaki Nanami had died—the two people he'd been closest to, for better or worse. So it only made sense that a memory involving one of the two would have surfaced when he became aware he was in a simulation. However, he had no recent memories of Nanami because she had died during the fall of Hope's Peak Academy, so Komaeda was the next logical candidate. He opened his mouth to explain this line of reasoning, but what came out was a rebuttal for an entirely different statement. "You're beautiful."

Komaeda stared at him, shell-shocked.

 _What…? Why did I say that?_

It wasn't as if _ugly_ was more accurate. A little worse for the wear, but they all were. Hajime always considered Komaeda to be pretty, although he never would have _said_ it outright…

"That's..." Komaeda was at a loss for words. "Nobody has ever… said that to me."

Hajime couldn't look at him any longer. He dug his hands into the sand, feeling the temperature drop the further down he pushed his fingers. "I'm _somebody_ , aren't I?"

"You're absolutely somebody, Hinata, that's why it's totally unnecessary for you to go out of your way to make disgusting trash like me feel—"

"I'm not saying it for your sake," Hajime said, feeling his voice slipping down into its old monotone. _Is this what I'm resorting to? Shutting down into Izuru?_ "Shut up and take the damn compliment."

Silence fell. Waves lapped at the beach, leaving uneven patterns in the sand. He watched them intently, trying to predict the next shape.

And failing.

A smile broke across his face.

"The Future Foundation has agreed to monthly supply runs," he said. "We'll have to create an inventory of necessities before they come back next week so that we can begin rebuilding. Food intake needs to be closely monitored—we don't want to put unnecessary strain on the Future Foundation's resources. We'll also need tools and medicinal supplies, and building evaluations will have to be conducted. The warehouses on the fifth island can be used for storage— "

Komaeda's chuckle snapped his sentence in half.

"And which of us will take initiative to conduct all these operations?"

Izuru blinked at him. "This isn't complicated. These are just the basic steps for our continued survival. Unless you'd rather allow our surroundings to crumble along with us."

"An insignificant bug like me wouldn't even consider arguing with you," Komaeda said. "Of course I'm not saying you're wrong, but we're going to need a leader. Someone to become our beacon of hope, so to speak."

"I had also considered this. Sonia, or perhaps even Kuzuryuu, would be most suitable."

"You think so?"

"They both meet the necessary requirements of running a small organization of people."

Tilting his face toward the sky, Komaeda leaned back in the sand on his elbows. "...Is that so? You know, Hinata, I'll always chase after the brightest hope. A mediocre hope just isn't good enough in the presence of a brilliant, glittering one."

Hearing his name come out of Komaeda's mouth brought Hajime a little more back to himself. Although, referring to Hajime as _himself_ wasn't entirely accurate. Izuru was just as much _himself_ as Hajime was. Rubbing his face, Hajime concentrated on Komaeda's meaning instead. "...There's only one person you'll consider following," he said, peering at the sunset through his fingers. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"

"Hope is a good leadership quality, you know? Back at Hope's Peak, Chiaki Nanami was elected our class representative because she worked hard to help unite us. She became our hope. For us now, I think it's the same." Komaeda dropped all the way down onto his back and folded his hands over his chest. "The leader we require has to embody our hope. Am I wrong, Hinata?"

Hajime fished into his pocket for Nanami's hairpin and held it, smoothing his thumb over the pixel starship. "...No, you aren't wrong."

"Ah, is that…?"

Wordlessly, Hajime handed him the pin. Komaeda lifted it up over his head, examining it from every angle with a surprisingly fond expression. When he tried to hand it back, Hajime just shook his head. "I wanted to become someone she could be proud of, you know," he said. "I wanted to be able to face her and say _look, I have this amazing talent_. It's only now that I have more talents than I know what to do with that I understand just possessing a talent isn't what matters. Having talent is boring. Having people to love and make memories with is much more important."

"...We all carry a piece of who she was inside of us," Komaeda said, sitting up again. "But your piece is definitely the brightest, Hinata."

Komaeda offered him the pin again. This time, Hajime took it, but only so he could attach it to the hood of Komaeda's coat. "There. Consider it a token of our friendship."

"F-Friendship? Hinata, that's too much, I… I'll lose it or break it, or something terrible will happen to it..."

"Then I'll give you something else." It was true, giving anything of value to Komaeda placed it directly into the firing line of his bad luck, but the moment Hajime had pinned it on his coat, he felt a weight lift. Nanami had adored _all_ of her classmates, and it was Hajime's duty to express that in her stead. "I want you to have that."

Komaeda blinked rapidly, as if he was fighting off tears. "I don't deserve it at _all_ , Hinata…"

"Keeping it would be selfish at this point, and there's no one else I'd rather give it to."

"How… can you say that? In the end, everything I worked for was completely worthless." Komaeda's voice hitched in his throat. "Worthless, just like… just like..."

Suddenly, Komaeda was on his feet and lurching toward the ocean. Hajime immediately jumped up and snatched his arm, jerking him back. Without thinking, he tightened his arms around Komaeda and hugged him close. It had been ages since he'd held anybody like this, and it felt good—especially when Komaeda's hands tentatively closed on the back of his shirt.

In the moment, he'd barely been able to process his emotions upon discovering Komaeda's dead body. Hajime hadn't considered him a friend at all by that point, but it still caused a piece of him to shatter. Solving a case suddenly became impossible without Komaeda's keen intellect. The betrayal he felt when he realized Komaeda had orchestrated his own death to kill _them_ cut deeper than anything he'd ever felt before. Even now, with all of his memories intact, nothing held a candle to it. It was only after learning the truth of what caused Komaeda to go off the rails that the ache in his chest began to fade.

"I told you when you woke up; I understand," he murmured. "I _understand_ the decisions you made, Komaeda. I forgive you."

Komaeda trembled in his arms, sobbing into his neck. Hajime rubbed his back.

"We have all the time in the world to understand each other. There's a lot of things we couldn't say to each other because of the killing game, but we can discuss everything now." Hajime pulled back a bit so he could see Komaeda's tear-streaked face. Gently, he wiped away some of the wetness with his thumb. "Let's work together for real this time. What do you say?"

Hesitantly, Komaeda placed his hand over Hajime's and squeezed. "I promise I won't fail again," he said. "For the sake of hope, I'll do—"

"—anything. I know, Komaeda." Hajime regarded him, a smile crossing his face. Komaeda would continue to cause trouble. Whether it was a disaster out of a blessing or a blessing out of a disaster, those terrifying, impossible circumstances would continue to befall them. Izuru was looking forward to it. "We'll chase that hope of yours together."

"I… would like that very much, Hinata."

* * *

"Why is there even assigned seating?" Saionji griped as she dropped down into the chair beside Kamukura. "We're not in school anymore."

Komaeda shrugged apologetically. He hadn't sat down yet, but hovered behind his seat. "I'm sorry, but if you could please humor me…?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of _humoring you_ ," Souda grumbled.

Koizumi punched his shoulder without looking up from her camera. "Just shut up so we can get this over with. I want to take some pictures before it gets pitch black outside."

The tables in the restaurant had been pushed to the walls, leaving ample room in the center for a circle of chairs. Much to Ryota's relief, his messily-scrawled namecard was on the chair next to the Imposter. To his left was Nidai—the Ultimate Team Manager or something—who, admittedly, scared the shit out of him. As it was, he felt totally dwarfed between the two.

Komaeda finally took his seat once everyone arrived. There was a few moments of silence while he struggled getting something out of his coat pocket, during which everyone exchanged confused looks.

Tsumiki finally spoke up. "H-Hey, um… doesn't something about this arrangement seem… k-kinda… familiar?"

"Eh? You think so too?" Owari asked. "I thought I was the only one."

"Tch." Kuzuryuu scoffed, tilting back in his chair. Only having one eye did nothing to dampen the heat of his glare. "Are you guys all fucking morons or something? Of course it's familiar. This is how we were all seated during the class trials."

Chills ran down Ryota's spine as the atmosphere in the room turned icy. He glanced up at the Imposter, who seemed just as dumbfounded as him.

"Wh-Why the hell would you do something like that? Are you some kind of sadist?" Souda, who was directly across the room from Komaeda, leaped out of his chair and threateningly crossed the circle.

"Sit down, Souda," The voice was low and cool—the voice of Kamukura. It froze Souda in his tracks. "I told him this arrangement was fine."

Souda turned on him. _"Y-You_ did? But—"

"We've been discussing things like this for weeks. There's no reason to adjust it. Although..." Kamukura glanced over at Komaeda, who was several seats away. "You're too far."

Komaeda laughed. "Perhaps it can be changed in the future."

"Hey! That's no fair!" Saionji yelled. "I wanna sit next to Mahiru! Hinata, switch seats with me."

"Can we just get this started already?" Kuzuryuu snapped.

Souda reluctantly sat back down and order was temporarily restored, although everyone still looked on edge. Spots started to swim in Ryota's vision and he hastily sucked in air, not realizing he'd stopped breathing. What was this _emergency meeting_ supposed to be about?

"Thank you all for allowing me to interrupt your precious evening," Komaeda began. "Honestly, I'm beyond flattered that you chose to attend at all—"

"You told me I'd get food," Owari said. "Well? Where is it?"

Komaeda opened his mouth, but Ibuki spoke first.

"Nagito said we could have a party. Ibuki wants _music!"_

Even Hanamura joined in the fray. " _Aha!_ You said there'd be plenty of beautiful women! Clearly, you're a dirty liar—" He froze, shooting a mortified look around the room. "I-I-I-I m-mean—"

"There's still food in the kitchen and we can have a singalong afterward, if you want," Komaeda said. "I knew if it was just insignificant me asking, none of you would've shown up."

"So you used your standard tactics to trick us," Tanaka said. "For what foul purpose have you summoned us here, then?"

Komaeda cleared his throat, unfolding the piece of paper he'd taken from his pocket. Methodically, he began tearing it into strips. "It's my belief that in order to move forward in our pursuit of hope, we need to elect a leader. Am I wrong to assume you share these sentiments?"

"I was actually thinking about that, too," Koizumi admitted. "We'll only last so long without some sort of system of government."

Sonia gave a firm nod. "I am in agreement. Becoming an anarchist society would be a fascinating social experiment, however I do not believe that will achieve anything."

"I-I agree with Miss Sonia!" Souda said hastily.

"Then shall we put it to a vote?" Komaeda asked.

"Wait a minute," Ryota said. All eyes were suddenly on him and he tensed. "Sh-Shouldn't we… nominate someone first?"

"I'd considered that, but… I have a definite feeling that a blind vote without nominations will end up unanimous," Komaeda said. "I've prepared some—"

"If you say chopsticks..." Souda shook a wrench at him. "...I'm gonna beat you with this."

"— _ballots,_ so if you could all please take one, and a pen..."

A few moments later, Ryota was staring down at a blank scrap of paper with a pen in his hand. It seemed silly to include him in the voting; he barely knew any of them. Who was he supposed to choose? What if there was a tie vote, or his vote caused the wrong person to win by one point? But… Komaeda had seemed pretty confident that everyone would choose the same person. So, if that was the case, the most obvious person to pick had to be _him_.

 _Izuru Kamukura._

"Oh," he whispered. That was silly, why didn't he write Hinata's name? That's what they all called him. In the end, Ryota left it as it was and folded the ballot. They would know who he meant.

Komaeda collected the ballots in Souda's hat—snatched off his head and handed over by Pekoyama—before sitting down to tally the votes. His smile grew wider as he opened paper after paper until he tossed the whole lot of them up into the air.

"It appears we're all of the same mind," he said, laughing. "I'd hoped this was how things would play out. Congratulations, Hinata."

"Eh? Did Hinata vote for himself?" Ibuki asked over the sound of everyone's claps and shouts.

"Ol' Kamukura-brains didn't vote," Saionji said. "He just stuffed the paper in his pocket, which, if you ask me, is just as egotistical."

Kamukura chuckled sheepishly. "I was sorta afraid this was how things would play out… This decision needed to be yours, though, without my input. That's why I allowed Komaeda to organize this instead of doing it myself. Even though I could have easily requested this position, I needed to make sure it was what everyone wanted."

"Mm. I admire your honesty," Nidai said. "Humility is one of the traits of a good leader. But all good leaders also need good assistants. Will you be choosing an assistant manager?"

"I thought about that, too—"

" _Egomaniac,"_ Saionji hissed.

"I appreciate every single one of you more than you know, but for this… It's unfortunate that my experiences with you don't extend beyond the Neo World Program. I wish I'd had more time to get build better relationships with all of you, but right now, I'm going to choose someone I've learned to depend on unconditionally."

Ryota discreetly peered around the circle. There was really only one person who seemed to fit that bill, as far as he knew.

"Kuzuryuu, would you do that for me?"

Cheers erupted again, even louder this time, but Ryota didn't join in. He looked from Kamukura to Kuzuryuu—who was blushing furiously—and then over to Komaeda. The white-haired boy was smiling, like this was something he'd predicted as well.

 _Kuzuryuu, huh…?_ The decision seemed logical enough, he supposed, but that wasn't the person Ryota expected him to pick.

Shortly after, their meeting was dismissed. Ryota scrubbed at his eyes as he exited the hotel lobby with the Imposter. Only two of the pool lights were working, giving off just enough light so no one accidentally stumbled and fell in.

"Ah… Looks like it's too late for Koizumi to take those pictures," the Imposter said, squinting in the darkness.

"If she has a quality camera, she might be able to get some by the moonlight," Ryota said. "Hey… Why didn't Kamu—I mean, Hinata pick Komaeda as his assistant? The two of them have discussed everything with each other so far."

The Imposter sighed, taking a seat on one of the deck chairs. Ryota sat down next to him.

"I think Hinata really wanted to choose Komaeda. If he'd done that, it's true that we would've respected his decision, but..." Pulling off the glasses of his Togami disguise, the Imposter stared down at his faint reflection in the lenses. "Not all of us are willing to trust Komaeda. I've only heard bits and pieces of what others have told me, but there's a general consensus that his actions in the Neo World Program are hard to look back on and forgive. Choosing Kuzuryuu was the right thing to do. We need to slowly build back our confidence."

Ryota nodded slowly. "I… understand, I think. I know even less about what happened than you do, but it's true that everybody is pretty jumpy around Komaeda. N-No one is going to hate me for being nice to him, are they?"

"I wouldn't worry about it. Like you said, you don't know anything about him. But I don't either, so..." The Imposter flashed him a very genuine, un-Togamilike grin. "We'll have to remake our friendships together."

"…Y-Yeah. I'd like that."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, you may have noticed I experimented around with how Hinata refers to himself in the narration. I'd like to say I have some sort of grand, intellectual reasoning for doing this, but I, uh, don't. I've seen Hinata/Kamukura written a lot of different ways, but for me, personally, I don't think it's as black and white as having a split personality like Fukawa and Genocide Jill. When he's talking to Mitarai in the Hope episode, he clearly swaps back and forth between himself and Kamukura, so I want to try and reflect that subtle change using the narration. It might work, it might not; I'm just playing around with my own understanding of it.

I also read a fanfic a short while ago where the author mentioned something about how the POV character wouldn't refer to themselves with their surname, and I thought that was genius and have since internalized it. I wish I remember who it was I saw first mention that, but alas! My memory is really, really bad!

Also, also, (as say the tags) I haven't thought about pairings past Komaeda/Hinata. I haven't actually thought much past them at all, but I tried really really hard because there's 16 people on the island, not two. SO, as pairings come up, I will add them into the tags.

Thank you so, so much for reading, and until next time!

 ** _RegenesisX_**


	2. Destination Hope

**Author's Note:** In which Mitarai gains some understanding of the events surrounding the first murder.

This may or may not be edited thoroughly, and I also may or may have not been completely exhausted writing the second half of it.

* * *

 **SIDE:CONTINUE**

 _Destination Hope_

"How did you die? In the simulation, I mean."

The Imposter paused mid-sweep, the cloud of dust raised by the broom slowly settling. The longer he remained silently, the faster Ryota's heart beat, panicked he'd brought up too sensitive of a topic. The deaths weren't real, though. And getting killed didn't seem like it would've been as emotionally scarring as doing the killing.

"I was stabbed. Under a table in the Old Lodge. Had to have been through the floorboards."

His stilted tone made it hard to ask the next question. "...Who killed you?"

"Teruteru Hanamura."

Ryota stifled a scoff of disbelief. "That guy? Really? I wouldn't think he'd have it in him to kill somebody, ordinarily."

"Ordinarily." The Imposter turned, leaning on his broom. He was dressed as Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, and had already caused an impressive amount of confusion for Mioda, Owari, and Souda. "Being held captive with murder as the only hope for escape does strange things to people."

The memory of a crazed Kyouske Munakata flashed in his mind, making Ryota shiver. "Yeah, it does. Why did he do it?"

"It wasn't me he was trying to kill."

"Isn't under a table to get stabbed through the floorboards a pretty specific place to have to be to get killed?"

The Imposter leaned his broom against the wall, moving to sit down on the bed. A puff of dust drifted onto the sheets. They'd been cleaning cottages for hours and both of them were covered in dirt. "I was prepared for a killing," he said. "That morning, I received a note telling me there would be a murder that night. I knew that I _absolutely_ could not let that happened, so I planned to create a scenario in which a murder that would fit Monokuma's conditions would be impossible."

"The only way to do that would be…" Ryota furrowed his brow, pursing his lips. The Killing School Trip rules had been based around committing murder without being caught. "If everyone stayed in the same room, where they could all see each other."

"Exactly. I arranged for a party that night, one that would last from dusk until dawn, to ensure that no one would get killed. But… there's something about being so obsessed with preventing a situation that causes you to overlook things. I was so focused on _that night_ , it didn't occur to me that while I was busy preparing, the crime was also being prepared right under my nose."

"...There's a certain story trope like that," Ryota said. "The character is told that something bad will happen and they get so obsessed with trying to prevent it, that they end up causing it themselves."

"I didn't know the others well enough to figure out who would have the most murderous intent, so I had to suspect everyone equally. Unfortunately, you can't give one-hundred percent of your attention to fifteen different people."

"Why didn't you just show them the note? Then everyone would've known someone intended to kill."

The Imposter shook his head. "They would've panicked. I never believed we would get overcome the situation by turning on each other, that's why I kept the note to myself. Allowing everyone to see me as a paranoid mother hen was a small sacrifice to pay for everyone's safety."

"But you overlooked something?"

"The fact that my future actions had been predicted—almost to a T." The Imposter laughed harshly. "Actually, if he'd predicted every single action, _I_ might not have died."

"Hanamura?"

"No, Hanamura was just an unfortunate game piece, like I was. Komaeda was the puppetmaster behind us."

Ryota's stomach rolled. "K-Komaeda? He… started the killing? But why would he do that? Why would he… want any of you to… _die?"_

"Hinata and I talked for a long time after I woke up… He spoke with all of us individually, explaining what had happened," the Imposter said. His gaze seemed far, far away. "I died believing that Komaeda and whoever was hiding underneath the floor were both intending to kill. What I didn't know was that Komaeda had planned himself to be Hanamura's victim, and my interference was why I got killed instead. But Hanamura had no idea he was killing me and not Komaeda at the time."

Murder… was something Ryota hated more than anything else. It made him sick, just thinking about it. Stumbling over to the bed, he sat down beside the Imposter. "...Why?"

"The party I planned took place at the Old Lodge, but it required cleaning before we could have the event. Komaeda got picked for cleaning duty, but Hanamura also spent the day there preparing food. While they were there, Hanamura learned about Komaeda's plan to kill somebody, so he took it upon himself to create a plan to kill Komaeda in secret."

"But… that would mean… Wouldn't that mean Hanamura wanted to commit murder in order to escape the killing game?"

"As I said before, our situation did strange things to us. For Hanamura, he didn't just _want_ to get off the island; for whatever reason, he _needed_ to get off the island. Life impacts each of us a little bit differently."

Even though Ryota knew the entire 77th class had fallen into despair and had all taken countless lives in cold blood, it was hard to imagine jovial Teruteru Hanamura stabbing someone to death.

"And… Komaeda?"

The Imposter tiredly rubbed his face. "His motivation is more… difficult to comprehend. You'd have to speak with Hinata, or Komaeda himself, about it."

Ryota nodded slowly. The revelation of Komaeda triggering the first killing wasn't nearly as shocking. Besides Kamukura, Ryota was the only living person to have witnessed Komaeda's attempt to murder Junko Enoshima. He'd forcefully blocked out the memory, but a fragment of the conversation still lingered.

Komaeda had said something like, _If I can kill you here, then you were never a fit stepping stone for hope._

As horrifying as it would've been to watch, Ryota wished Komaeda had shot her. Ignored Chiaki Nanami, pulled the trigger, and buried a bullet deep in Enoshima's chest. Or perhaps her brain, the place where the evil plot for mass despair had originated. It was a wish out of his own weakness, he knew. The burden of responsibility he currently bore would've vanished; the blood simply transferred onto someone else's hands.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess he was always a little hard to understand. There's actually something I'd like to talk to him about, but… I don't know if I can, yet."

Ryota instinctively flinched when the Imposter's hand gripped his shoulder. Physical contact had always made him uncomfortable, regardless of how innocuous. But as he sucked in a slow breath and met the Imposter's eyes—or, Kuzuryuu's one eye—a warm wave of _something_ washed over him. His muscles relaxed, like the tension in his entire body was being coaxed downward by gravity.

"You don't have to rush anything," the Imposter said. "Everyone recovers at different speeds. It's okay not to be _okay_ right away."

A strange urge to grab the Imposter's hand welled up inside him. Clutching at his dirty pantlegs, Ryota scrambled for words. "You're really..."

The Imposter's gaze didn't waver. Ryota swallowed.

"...doing a bad job at impersonating Kuzuryuu. I haven't heard you swear once."

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when Ryota finally headed to the hotel restaurant to retrieve some water for himself and the Imposter. He passed Komaeda in the lobby on his way up but, much to his relief, wasn't noticed. Papers were covering the reception desk; he was probably going through the hotel records. If there were any leftover maintenance reports, they'd have a better idea of the condition of the hotel before it was abandoned. That was usually the sort of thing the Future Foundation looked for when investigating buildings.

Ryota wondered if Kamukura had told him to do that, or if Komaeda had taken initiative to do it himself.

Unsurprisingly, Hanamura was in the kitchen. Ryota paused in front of the door, listening to him sing a peppy operatic—sharp and horribly off-key. He briefly considered making himself scarce, but his throat was parched. Steeling himself, he rapped twice on the door before pushing it open.

The kitchen smelled _amazing_. Even though he'd eaten lunch an hour ago, his stomach growled. Hanamura was of questionable character, but there was no denying that he was an excellent cook.

"Ahaa! Mitarai!" Hanamura greeted him enthusiastically. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? If it's to sneak a preview of tonight's main dish, I absolutely cannot allow it. However… there are always ways to… _persuade_ me."

Ryota edged over to the sink. "I-I just need water. Do you have a pitcher somewhere?"

"You want a pitcher, hmmm? I think I could provide you with the one you need..."

Something about the glint in Hanamura's eyes gave Ryota the sinking feeling they weren't referring to the same kind of pitcher.

Hanamura sidled closer, eagerly wringing his hands. "Will you be requiring a _big_ pitcher, perhaps?"

"I j-just need it for water… The Imposter and I have been cleaning all day, and we're thirsty..."

"Ohh? You must be _very_ thirsty. You'll definitely need a _substantial_ pitcher to satisfy the both of you."

Ryota took another few steps backward as Hanamura advanced on him.

"We can make it into a heart-throbbing _ménage à troi_ _—"_

The kitchen door flew open, banging against the back wall. Komaeda stood in the doorway, panting. Had he been running?

"What do you want?" The playful lilt in Hanamura's voice was gone. "Get out."

"The sink," Komaeda said. "It's broken."

"That's ridiculous, I used the sink five minutes ago. It's not broken. Go spew your nonsense at somebody else and leave me alone."

Komaeda crossed the threshold of the kitchen and approached the sink, much to Hanamura's growing horror. "No, there's definitely something wrong with it. I just found a maintenance report that said they were having a problem with corrosion in the pipes. It'll definitely start leaking soon, if it isn't already."

"There's no leak!" Hanamura shouted. "The sink is fine!"

"But the hotel—"

"La la la la la!" Slapping his hands over his ears, Hanamura started singing again. Louder, and more off key, Ryota noted. "I'm not listening!"

Frowning, Komaeda stepped up to the sink and turned the water on. The facet sputtered for a few moments, then ran normally. "See, I don't think it's supposed to take so long for it to—"

"It's fine!" Pushing Komaeda out of the way, Hanamura pulled open the cabinets below the sink. "See? All of the pipes are fine, it's just sediment. Sediment!"

"There's a lot more pipes besides just these ones, you know? We should really have Souda or Hinata inspect them before something bad—"

A loud _bang!_ followed by a sharp _pop!_ came from beneath the sink, making Ryota jump, then a jet of water exploded from underneath the sink, hitting Hanamura square in the face. He sputtered and fell backwards, trying to block the water with his hands and only succeeding in making it spray everywhere else.

"—happens..."

 _"_ _Whoopi Goldburg!"_ Hanamura shrieked. "Turn it off! Turn it off!"

Komaeda tried to, but when he twisted the knob, it simply broke off in his hand. Water continued to spray.

"Ah… Oops."

"Oops? _Oops?_ You're ruined my kitchen!" With much effort, Hanamura managed to crawl to safety on the other side of the blast zone. "And all you have to say for yourself is _oops?!"_

"I did come to warn you," Komaeda said. Sighing, he shook his head. "Ah… This is such bad luck. I guess we'd better go find Souda before the entire restaurant floods. Come on, Mitarai."

Ryota skittered after Komaeda, casting a glance back at Hanamura as the cook scrambled to save dinner.

* * *

Koizumi had pointed them in the direction of the fifth island upon asking after Souda's whereabouts. Ryota nervously steered the ferry away from the dock. Although Komaeda was the one who knew how to operate the boat, he'd refused to drive it on the grounds that his bad luck was "very active today."

Once they made it out onto open water, Ryota relaxed. The sea was quiet, and there was no chance of him slamming them into another rock. "I only wanted to get a couple glasses of water. How did it turn into this…?"

Komaeda laughed, leaning against the edge of the boat. "There's never a dull moment around Ultimates."

"No kidding," Ryota muttered. "You were in an awful hurry to get out of there. Shouldn't there have been a shutoff valve for the water in the hotel somewhere?"

"There's a utility room behind the reception desk, but there should've been a valve underneath the sink as well. Hopefully Hanamura finds it, or else we might have to replace the floor in the kitchen. That would be quite a hassle."

"E-Eh? Why didn't you say anything?"

"The way things played out is fine, isn't it?" Komaeda's smile was so disarming, it made Ryota's hands tremble on the steering wheel. "My only thought coming into the kitchen was to keep you from getting harassed by Hanamura. Who could have predicted the sink pipes would burst like that?"

"But you… the maintenance report…"

"I did see one that mentioned the corroded pipes, but it was from a few months before the hotel was abandoned, so I couldn't be sure if they'd actually been taken care of or not. Guess I just got lucky."

 _Lucky._

He said it offhandedly, as if it was a chance occurrence, but Ryota wasn't fooled. Being the _Ultimate Lucky Student_ of Hope's Peak Academy meant more than just a random lottery win. Makoto Naegi was, at very least, evidence of that.

"Hey… Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm? What is it?"

"The Imposter told me you were the one who… instigated the killing in the Neo World Program. Is that… Is that true?"

"It is."

Ryota's breath hitched. He hadn't expected such a casual response. "Wh-Why?"

"This is just how I felt at the time, but… for us to remain trapped on that island forever was the worst possible outcome to me. We were given a set of rules to follow in order to escape, and I was willing to do whatever it took to help. You see, refusing to play Monokuma's game would mean that everyone had lost hope. And a loss of hope means that you've fallen into despair."

"I-If you had just waited, I'm sure Naegi and the others would've figured out a way to get you out..."

"We didn't know. There was no possible way we could've known we were in a simulation. Having a complete set of memories now is…" Komaeda laughed again, but this one seemed to burst from him like an oil bubble popping on a skillet. He leaned his elbows on the railing, burying his face in his hands. "I feel more played by myself than anyone else."

"...K-Komaeda?"

"Ah, well. Everything balances out in the end. I know boating isn't your talent, Mitarai, but please try to avoid destroying the dock here."

"Y-You're the one that knows how to drive this thing!"

"But I might set us on fire! I have complete faith in you, Mitarai."

"That's n-not reassuring at all..."

Ryota thankfully managed to dock the ferry without ramming into the dock, allowing them to hurry on their way to the warehouses where Koizumi said Souda and Kamukura were. At first, he'd panicked, worrying that it would take forever to locate them in the maze of outbuildings, but Komaeda found them almost immediately.

 _It's like he and Kamukura communicate using wireless signals_ , Ryota thought as he trailed after Komaeda. Souda and Kamukura were using an old forklift to stack boxes behind the third warehouse—a bizarrely _lucky_ guess.

"Hinataaaa!"

Kamukura was in the unfortunate position of setting down a heavy-looking box when Komaeda jumped on him. It was only his enhanced physical prowess that saved him from faceplanting into the box.

"Yo," Souda called, pulling up in the forklift. "Want me to scrape him off ya?"

Kamukura laughed and stood upright. Komaeda slid off him, still clinging to his neck like a cape. "I think I can handle it," he said, gently prying Komaeda off of him. "As much as I'm inclined to believe you came all the way over here just to see me, Mitarai's presence suggests you've come for another reason."

"Ah, yes. One of the pipes burst in the restaurant kitchen. We need Souda to come take a look at it."

"Tch. You guys really can't take two steps around here without needing my help, can you?" Souda grumbled, cutting the engine and climbing off the forklift.

"I-It was an accident," Ryota said. "...I think."

"I'll check it out, but I haven't seen much in the way of plumbing equipment lying around. We might have to use the kitchen in the Old Lodge for a while," Souda said, walking over to join Mitarai. "Will you be okay by yourself for a bit, Hinata?"

Kamukura nodded. "I'll keep Komaeda. You two can go."

The return trip to the first island was considerable more awkward—Ryota had never been alone with Souda before—but at least he didn't have to drive the boat.

"I'd ask what happened, but if it's something to do with _that_ guy, it's usually not worth it to know," Souda said conversationally.

Ryota sighed. His pants were still coated in dust.

Dear lord, he'd almost forgotten.

"Hey, is it alright if I take a detour to Rocketpunch for some bottled water? I promised the Imposter I'd get some, and while I've seen a lot of water today already, I haven't managed to get any back to him yet..."

* * *

 **A/N:** So it took all week for me to decide exactly what I want the next few chapters to be, and I've finally decided that we're going to give Mitarai a round-trip tour through the events of the Neo World Program, and where the participants are now in the aftermath.

It's currently midnight, so I'm going to sleep immediately :'D

Thanks for reading!

 ** _RegenesisX_**


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